Amaryllis
by Red Swallowtail
Summary: (Non-DH Compliant) "I will never love you, and you will never love me. But this is how I will save your life." After a mission inside the school goes horribly wrong for Hermione, she must spend her life pretending she no longer exists with the last person she ever wanted to spend her life with. Rated M to be safe.
1. Prologue: Amaryllis

_(__**Author's Note:**__ Harry Potter and Co. are property of J.K. Rowling. I just get to play with her toys.)_

* * *

'_Ask yourself now  
Where would you be without  
Days like this  
When you finally collide  
With the moment you can't forget'_  
Shinedown, "Amaryllis"

* * *

Prologue

The thick, warm air of late July hung over the hills of Somerset, as the sun slowly began to make its descent over the horizon. The deep reds and oranges of the sunset cast shades over the landscape of a dwindling summer, promising the approach of an early autumn. The slowly fading daylight began to cast evening shadows over the towns and villages, and even over a small home, beneath a large oak tree, nestled among a stretch of countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of civilization.

This house looked unremarkable, itself dwarfed beneath the massive branches of the great oak towering above it. It was a small, one-story home of a pale cream color. The shutters, pulled closed in every window save one, were a deep blue, and the fence enclosing the front yard was of a regular picket variety, with a gate hanging slightly ajar at the end of a curved cobblestone walkway. The grass inside the fence was neat and trimmed, contrary to the grass outside it which was wild with midsummer life. There was no mailbox or address, and the only thing that could have given any indication of what or where the house might have been was a neat little sign hanging next to the gate that read "Corvusset" in very sharp, thin writing.

Two, small children, maybe around the ages of six or seven, were sitting inside the fence playing mundanely with balls and blocks. It was a young boy and young girl, varied in appearance, though they were unmistakably siblings. The boy was of a pale complexion with a wild mop of short, unruly brown curls atop his head and deep black eyes, large and full of curiosity. The little girl, however, had a long curtain of straight, sleek black hair, muddy brown eyes, a more olive-toned complexion, and a slight bend in the middle of her nose.

In the window of the house, a woman could be seen bending slightly over a kitchen sink, presumably preparing supper or washing dishes. Her own hair was a long, wild tangle of brown curls, tied messily back in a low ponytail at the base of her neck. Her own brown eyes stared out of the window, observing the hills as they were awash in the colors of a late summer sunset.

Corvusset was a rarely visited place. In fact, there had only ever been two people to have ever visited it (outside the family who lived there) in all the eight years since it had been built, and never had there been more than one visitor at a time. However, this night would be different. As the woman reached up to turn off the faucet in the kitchen sink, she heard two rather loud and distinct 'pop's, drawing her attention back out the window.

Immediately, she set her dish rag down as she heard the front door open and the two children come running in noisily, stopping just inside the threshold to continue staring at the two people who had seemingly just appeared outside the gate. Her footsteps padded lightly against the wooden floor, pausing slightly to pick up a long, thin piece of wood off the kitchen table before proceeding completely into the doorway.

With the last remains of sunlight glowing over her as she stepped fully into the light, it was easy to tell she was a woman of her late twenties or early thirties. Her face was still young-looking, though her eyes and her brow showed where hard times and many experience has created creases and light stress lines. At first, her gaze was narrow and suspicious, but as the gate creaked further open and her visitors drew nearer, her eyes opened wide. In their brown depths was a mixture of surprise, delight, and anxiety. Immediately she pocketed the piece of wood and called to them.

"I have been expecting you both for some time now," she called, a light laugh playing in her voice as the corners of her lips turned up into a warm smile. "I thought I might have to give up waiting on you."

She stood back from the door to allow entrance to two gentlemen of about the same age as herself. One of the men was tall, with long arms and legs, though the most noticeable thing about him would have had to be the mane of fiery red hair that grew from his scalp. He has a speckling of freckles across his nose and cheeks and, upon getting a closer look at the woman, he gave a reluctant smile. The other gentleman was quite a bit shorter than his counterpart, and sporting a very unruly top of black hair. He examined the woman with his striking green eye behind his round spectacles and, finding her in acceptably good health, also smiled, pushing some of his black bang out of his face and briefly revealing a scar that seemed to be shaped like a lightning bolt.

Almost simultaneously, the two men turned their eyes to the two children who had come to stand around their mother's legs. Noticing their change in attention, she cleared her throat.

"Abraham, Emily, go find your father for me and tell him that we have guests," she said, shuffling the two children in the direction of a door on the opposite side of the kitchen. "I believe he is in the potion's cellar." At first the children didn't budge, each holding on to one of the woman's pant legs, but after more encouragement from their mother – "_Now_, please" – they headed in the direction she had been nudging them.

Standing up straight again, she turned back to the two men in the doorway, ushering them properly into the house and closing the door behind them.

"Harry, Ron, I feel like it's been ages," she said warmly, a bright smile beginning to play on her features once more.

"Hermione, it _has_ been ages!" replied Harry, running his hand through his messy black hair once more as he and Ron allowed Hermione to steer them to the kitchen table.

"Ten years, Hermione! We had thought that—well—you know…" added Ron. The smiles left their faces. "We thought you were dead."

Hermione grimaced as she motioned for them to sit. "Yes, well," she began, her voice becoming slightly shaky, "I imagine that was probably the intention. If it hadn't been for that, I likely might have been."

"That's why we're here," said Harry, sternly, his face becoming quite grave. "We want to know what happened—want to know why you went off the map the way you—"

He trailed off as the children returned from the cellar, another person coming into the room behind them. Immediately, the two men at the table jumped to their feet, eyeing the third man who had entered the room. He was a rather tall man, though nowhere near as tall as Ron, with shoulder-length black hair that had a greasy look about it. He had slightly narrowed black eyes and pale skin that looked to be the result of too much time in cellars much like the one he had just emerged from. He was unrolling the sleeves of his shirt as he stared down his hooked nose at Harry and Ron, where they stood around the kitchen table.

"What?" yelled Harry suddenly. "What is he doing here, Hermione? He should be in Azkaban!" The man gave a derisive snort and moved to wash his hands in the kitchen sink, tapping it with his wand to make warm water flow from the faucet.

"Now, boys, calm down," Hermione interjected, sidling slightly in front of the man as he scrubbed his long fingers. "There's a lot you don't understand about this situation…"

"Like what Snape is doing in your house?!" bit Ron, his ears beginning to turn a violent shade of red.

"I can explain," replied Hermione, trying to sound soothing, "but first you have to sit down – oh, for pity's sake, will you put those things away! I will not have you throwing curses all over my kitchen over something you don't even know the truth about yet!" Her voice was raising octaves as she watched Harry and Ron withdraw their wands from their pockets.

"Hermione, you have a known Death Eater washing his bloody hands in your sink!" Harry looked equal parts livid and confused. "And not only that, but Dumbledore's killer even! Are you bat-shit mental?" Suddenly it seemed as if something different crossed his mind, and it was something that seemed to throw him entirely for a loop. "Hermione, have you been with him these whole ten years? And those children…" he hissed, his eyes turning to the two small children still in the doorway of the cellar, watching apprehensively. "Did you—are they—they can't be yours? With him?!"

It was apparent that Hermione's temper was beginning to rise with her panic as she also withdrew her wand.

"As I said, _you don't understand. _If you could PLEASE trust me like you have so many times before and _let me explain!_" She seemed to be having trouble controlling herself as she slowly edged toward the children. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "_I will ask you to please not point your wands at my children!_" Her face flushed with anger as she situated herself in front of them, her free hand pushing them both behind her. "Regardless of what you may think he or I have done, these two children are _innocent_. Please put your wands down and allow me to explain this!"

There was a long, tension-filled pause where Ron and Harry stared from Snape to Hermione and where Hermione resolutely glared at the two men by the kitchen table. Aside from the sound of the water flowing from the faucet and the nervous sounds of the children behind Hermione, the room was completely quiet. And then the sound of flowing water ceased and Snape turned around, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. The wands in Harry's and Ron's hands immediately switched targets.

Setting the towel aside, Snape fixed both of the younger men with a cold, calculating stare as he picked up his own wand from the kitchen counter before speaking.

"After all this time, you are greeting someone whom you mourned as dead and are finding alive after ten years with suspicion and threats of—whatever it is you might think you are threatening with your wands out like that," he said, drawing out each word in his deep baritone. Regardless of how calm he seemed to be, it was apparent that he was not pleased at all with the situation. "Honestly, you are proving yourselves to be quite the nitwits I assumed you to be during the years I had the misfortune of attempting to teach you. You so mistrust me that you will allow said mistrust to cloud your own judgment and trust for one you once called your best friend."

"How can we be so sure that you haven't placed her under the Imperius curse?" questioned Ron, his wand still pointing resolutely at Snape's hooked nose. The older man let out an exasperated sigh and turned his gaze to Hermione who was still standing with her own wand up, shielding the children. His sharp, black eyes immediately turned back to Harry and Ron.

"Honestly, even if I wanted to, I doubt I could successfully accomplish it," he drawled. "I'm sure you are aware of how strong her will is? Even in my better days, it's highly unlikely I would have been able to cast an Imperius upon her that she could not subsequently break." Both Harry and Ron's arms wavered slightly. After a second longer, Snape's upper lip curled into a familiar sneer. "For that matter, how could I have possibly duped Minerva into believing that she," he motioned to Hermione, "was here of her own free will, if she was not? It was Minerva, after all, who sent you, was it not?"

None of the derision and calculating rage left his voice as he spoke of his former colleague. All four adults in the room exchanged glances. Both Harry and Ron visibly faltered as they mulled over what Snape said. Noticing their slight lax in attention, Hermione took the opportunity to interject what she felt was some sense into the conversation.

"You see? There is no way Professor McGonagall would have allowed me to remain here if she believed I was in danger," piped in Hermione, dropping her wand to her side. "Now can we please just stop with this ridiculousness and sit down and discuss what all has happened in these last ten years. This is truly not how I intended our decade-late reunion to go."

Seemingly satisfied, though begrudgingly so, Harry dropped his wand, followed shortly by Ron. They both kept hard stares on Snape as they returned to their seats, keeping their wands in front of them, almost threateningly. Hermione let out a long breath of relief, also setting her wand on the table and turning to her children.

"Look how late it's gotten," she muttered, turning her children's attention to her as she belt slightly to put her hands on their shoulders in a comforting gesture. "Go brush your teeth, and get ready for bed." The both looked at her unhappily. She turned and looked at Snape. "Can you please put them to bed while I put the tea on and get everything situated?"

He didn't respond to her immediately, his eyes still narrowed at the two gentlemen at his kitchen table. After a few moments of reluctance, he turned and swept out of the kitchen, ushering the two children along with him. They both whined at him as he directed them onward toward the bathroom and then, ultimately, their beds.

While Snape was out of the room, Hermione fetched a kettle and, upon setting it on the stove, tapped it with her wand to set about making tea. Her back was still straight and tense, but there was a definite air of relief about her. Once the tea was set to brewing, she turned around and headed for a glass cabinet on the far side of the kitchen, grabbing something that looked like a stone vial from atop it. She then, turned back to the kitchen table and her two best friends.

"Well, I could have done without that stress this evening," she sighed, setting the vial on the table before taking a seat. "But it is nice seeing you both, all the same."

"Hermione," began Ron, his stern look easing some, and a nervous quirk appearing on his lips, "why didn't you contact us once in these last ten years? When you disappeared that night…we all thought the worst. Kingsley really felt like it was his fault, for sending you off to do something so complicated on your own. We really thought you had been captured, tortured, and…" He trailed off. "We would have all slept better knowing you were alright this whole time."

"I know, and I'm so sorry, but—" she replied, patting them both gently on the top of their hands.

"And then we find out you're alright, and alive, and we get here," interrupted Harry, rubbing his arm in agitation, "and you've been here, with him…and you have children—with—with—"

"With me. Yes." All three of them looked up to see Snape re-entering the kitchen. He turned his gaze to Hermione. "They are in bed and asleep, which was no small feat, seeing as they were scared utterly witless." He glared at the other two.

Just as Ron had opened his mouth to respond, the kettle sounded. Hermione spoke up, as if to drown out any possible further argument.

"Severus," she said. Both Harry and Ron were taken aback by her use of his first name. She turned her face to hide her blush at their stares and spoke to Snape once more. "Could you please prepare the tea?"

Snape looked very much like he would like nothing more but to poor the scalding tea all over the two men, but refrained from even speaking and, instead, set about gathering teacups as Hermione turned her gaze back to Harry and Ron. After a few minutes, Snape set a mug of hot liquid in front of each of the people at the table, as well as one in front of the only empty chair for himself. He also placed milk and sugar on the table as Hermione grabbed some tea cakes that she had made from the countertop and placed them on the table.

Severus Snape then took his seat next to Hermione and silence fell over the group as they sat drinking their tea. Harry and Ron looked as if they wanted to say or do some very horrid things to Snape, but were restraining themselves, almost painfully. After a few minutes of tension-filled silence, Hermione set down her teacup and cleared her throat.

"So," she began, her finger idly playing with the handle of her teacup as she looked for the right words, "where to begin…" She glanced around nervously and, after a few seconds, all eyes were on her. She cleared her throat again and pushed her teacup aside, biting her bottom lip lightly as she hunted for the words.

Harry and Ron stared at her expectantly, and Snape was giving her a slightly languid look as he sipped his tea.

"Well, I suppose to get here, we really need to start from the beginning. Let's go back ten years then…"

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_**A/N:**_Well, it's been an awfully long time since I wrote anything. Honestly, I can't even remember my old account email, username, or anything of the like, so I had to start over. I had been mulling around in the Hermione/Severus stories for a few days and finally found a muse somewhere along the way. Thus this was born. After this chapter, I will, of course, be referring to Severus as Severus and not as Snape. For the prologue, Snape was merely for context and dramatic purposes.

But, um, yes, there we have it. I hope you like it. Also, on a side note, every chapter will be named after a Shinedown song and have snippets of lyrics at the beginning, because I love them and they are part of my muse.


	2. Chapter 1: Cry for Help

(_**A/N: **__Harry Potter and Co. are property of J.K. Rowling. I'm only playing in her playpen.)_

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'_Because the mind is a weapon, see  
And it's got you on  
Your hands and knees  
Pull the trigger if you're gonna  
We all know that you wanna  
Count off 1, 2, 1, 2, 3!_'  
Shinedown, "Cry for Help"

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Chapter One

Just under ten years prior, in the big city of London, the sun was making its first day's light over the horizon. The deep, inky blue of the night was receding across the sky as the sun produced the first minutes of dawn. Some of the people in their houses and flats were rising from their beds for the day, while others were already in their cars, making their commute to work. Children were groaning as they rose to prepare for school while their mothers prepared their breakfasts.

In another part of the city, there stood a large, dilapidated apartment building. Several of its windows were boarded up and across the worn, gray front door hung a sign reading "Caution! Do Not Enter". No light could be seen from any of the unblocked windows, and several long, winding vines were all over the brick walls, up from the untamed grass. From the outside, it appeared as though no one had been inside the building for years. A chain-link fence stood erected around the property of the building, barring anyone who might have thought about entering it.

To the normal eye, it was unremarkable and a place of little note. Even though people occasionally seemed to open the front gate and walk in through the front door, no one paid any mind at all. Even though one could occasionally hear voices coming from within, not a single passerby ever seemed to notice.

As the sun rose higher into the sky, rays of light began to filter through the dirty glass of the unbarred windows. The sunlight spilled slowly into the room—a small room in an equally small, one bedroom apartment on the third floor—and shone a pale yellow across the face of the room's sole occupant. Sitting, at a table littered with thick and old-looking books, was a young woman in her late teens. Her face was resting against the pages of an open book as she breathed lightly, peacefully asleep.

As the sunlight spread across her face, her brow crinkled and she slowly opened her eyes. Blinking heavily with the sudden invasion of light into her vision, she lifted her head from the book. She peeled the page her cheek had been resting against from the side of her face and tried to run a hand through her bushy brown hair as she looked down at the page that had been stuck to the side of her face. The header of the page read 'Herpo the Foul'. As she scanned the text of the page she let out a long, tired, dejected sigh and closed 'Historically Notable Dark Wizards' and pushed it to the side.

With a mild groan at her current wakefulness, Hermione Granger raised her arms high above her head and stretched out her spine as she became more and more aware of her surroundings. Shaking herself fully awake, Hermione pushed back from the table and move over to her bathroom. She pushed the door open and looked around at the simple and empty looking space. A small sink with lopsided mirror, a white toilet, and a very compact shower, along with few toiletries were all to be found. Hermione walked over to the shower and turned the handle to start the hot water flowing as she began brushing her teeth.

The large, old, abandoned building had not been anything special when the Order of the Phoenix had decided to utilize it as their new headquarters. In fact it had been borderline dangerous, with its falling ceilings, trick stairs, and toppled doors. However, with a night full of work and secret spell casting, it had all but transformed on the inside. Some of the Order members had even taken up residency within it, including Hermione herself.

After all that had happened at the end of her last year at Hogwarts, herself, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley had all decided to forgo returning to the school in light of the fact that they would now have so many other things to worry about beside school and exams. Surprising to Ron and Harry, Hermione had put up very little fuss…at least in comparison to many of the adults in their lives. Molly Weasley, especially, had much to say about it. She had ranted and raved for the better part of three hours about how they were still children, and how school was very important, especially in dark times such as those. It had taken a lot of tea and a talking down from her husband just for her to quit yelling and give it a rest.

Ultimately, Molly had also caved, though that was mostly in part to that fact that the following day the Daily Prophet read that Severus Snape would be taking over as Headmaster, with the Carrows as his deputies. At that point, everyone agreed that it would be far too dangerous for them to return to Hogwarts, and right into the hands of the enemy—especially for Hermione. However, everyone also agreed that 12 Grimmauld Place was no longer a safe place to convene for meetings, especially since someone who had once been so close to the Order had revealed themselves to, indeed, be a part of the enemy forces.

The first night, everyone met within the Burrow to discuss where they would go from there. A lot of suggestions were put forth, the most extreme having been to take their meetings outside of the country, using Floo and Apparation to commute. However, that thought was quickly thrown out. It had been Hermione who had mentioned the old, abandoned building deep in London. A lot of people were skeptical even of that, but she explained how living within Muggles would make them harder to track, especially if they all agreed to arrive at the headquarters by way of Muggle commute. It would also have been easy to go undetected by Muggle-repelling the building, and, as long as they were careful, they could still use magic inside the building.

Over the course of the following days, many other suggestions were made, but they had decided to indeed use the building that Hermione mentioned. "With this, we will be hiding where they will least expect us to be, detached from the majority of the Wizarding community," the brunette had explained as the Order prepared to relocate. Ron had still asked about connecting the building to the Floo network, but Arthur Weasley had quickly dismissed the idea.

"You-Know-Who has spies within the Ministry," he said. "It wouldn't be a hiding place for very long once one of the Death Eaters had a look at the Floo Network ledger."

Surprisingly, acquiring and sprucing up the place was very simple. It seemed as though the owner of the complex had long left the property to waste, and so few people paid attention to it that, as long as they left the outside as it was, no one, Wizard or Muggle, was ever the wiser of the redecorating occurring inside. The redecorations had started mid-August, and didn't fully come to completion until the warding and Muggle-repelling of the build a week into September, after the new school year was made to start.

During this time, Hermione had returned to her parents' house and had spent a whole week going to dinners with her parents and telling them she loved them and would miss them very much. Assuming that she meant that she would miss them when she went to school, they thought nothing of it and had merely responded that they would also miss her. They were both very surprised when, on the last day of August, she stood before them in the living room, her trunk packed and sitting by the front door and her wand gripped tightly in her hand and pointing at them. Hermione had sobbed a very teary and strained "I love you!" and "I'm sorry!" before her voice echoed "_OBLIVIATE!" _through the house as Hermione herself focused and willed them to forget they had ever had a daughter.

While Mr. and Mrs. Granger had sat on their couch, dazed and slowly coming around, Hermione had snatched up her trunk and departed from their house, hailing the Knight Bus and setting off for the small shopping district two blocks from the old apartment building that had become their headquarters, where she was meant to meet with Ron and his brothers Fred and Georgia who would escort her back to the safety of her own apartment within the building.

The days dragged on. Harry eventually joined them at the building, after having returned to Privet Drive as he had once agreed to do. When he finally arrived at the headquarters, he told Ron and Hermione in confidence that he had been having worse and worse 'dreams' that he was certain had to do with Voldemort and his sudden rise to power. As a result, Harry had had little sleep. His skin grew progressively paler and large, dark circles began to form under his eyes. His mood was also rather bad most of the time, which caused several people to choose to avoid him unless it was necessary that they have contact with him.

Time passed and soon they were rolling into November, with very little luck in discovering any of the Horcruxes. Harry and Ron had taken to trying to analyze Harry's progressively worsening nightmares while Hermione scoured every single book she could get her hands on about dark magic and dark wizards, especially searching the texts for anything mentioning Horcruxes, though it very rarely came up and when it did, it only mentioned Herpo the Foul and didn't go into detail at all about the process or what was generally used as Horcruxes. To be honest, Hermione felt like she had been pressed against a brick wall and couldn't break through.

As she stood in beneath the warm water of her shower, she tried to will her muscles to unwind from their incredibly painful tension. She just wanted to relax for a few moments, but whenever she thought that she might be able to, the very real knowledge of the daunting task before her and her friends loomed before her, along with the thought of her many friends who would undoubtedly be suffering at Hogwarts to Snape and Voldemort's twisted reign. With that thought in her mind, she had no choice but to push on in her endeavors, though things were most definitely starting to look hopeless.

After washing her hair and body, Hermione reached forward and turned off the shower. She grabbed a towel from the rack and swept it over her body before furiously rubbing it through her wild, tangled, curly mess of hair. With a quick glance at the mirror, Hermione headed out of her bathroom to get dressed, tossing the wet towel in the hamper.

She dressed in a modest pair of jeans and a faded green jumper. Hermione had never been the type to dress ostentatiously or overly girly, preferring utility and comfort to appearance. She also generally forwent wearing makeup or doing anything serious to her hair. It never bothered her to be called unfeminine or ugly because of this, because her clothes suited her just fine. After pulling on a pair of slightly worn trainers, she cut off the light in the living room of the apartment that had been on all night, and headed out of the front door.

Checking her watch, she noted it was only 6am. It was very unlikely that many people would also be awake, least of all Harry or Ron. For this she was slightly relieved. At least she would have a little bit of time before having to tell them that she had, once again, not been successful in finding or figuring anything else. With one sweeping glance, she looked up and down the deserted corridor before heading down to the office area on the first floor, which had been expanded to fit a large table for Order meetings.

Upon entering the large room, she noted three people up and moving around, most of which were sipping tea or coffee and chatting away. She was greeted by each individually, receiving a comforting pat on the shoulder from Kingsley Shacklebolt, the lead auror of the Ministry, and a hug from Molly Weasley as she pulled away from the small kitchen area that had been set up in the corner of the room.

Much to her surprise, Harry sauntered in a few minutes after she had situated into a seat at the table with a hot cup of tea. He slipped into the seat next to her, Molly bringing him a cup of tea shortly thereafter. While he took a long draw from the cup, Hermione got a good look at him. He was much noticeably thinner since he had arrived at the headquarters, his face looking slightly gaunt. His eyes, once brilliant and green, seemed to always look tired and weary. Every time Hermione looked at him, she felt a pang of worry in her chest for her best friend.

"Harry, you look awful," Hermione said in a whisper, touching his hand gently. He let out a hollow laugh.

"Probably loads better than I feel," he replied, his voice slightly hoarse as he sipped his tea. "Every night they are worse and more vivid. Last night," he shuddered, "I could tell his was angry. Everything was much—much more clear. But I don't understand anything. Just pictures."

Hermione frowned at him. "Of—of people dying?" she whispered.

"No, just—just images," he replied. "Last night, all I kept seeing were images of Hogwarts, Voldemort's snake…a woman..." He sighed, running a hand shakily through his hair, rubbing his scar gingerly along the way.

"Someone he killed?" asked Hermione. Harry shook his head.

"No, I don't think so," he replied, his fingers returning to his scar. "I think—I think she _is_ dead…but I don't think he killed her. And—she looked familiar."

They sat in silence for a long time. By the time anything else was said, Ron had arrived and Molly had placed large plates of breakfast in front of them. Ron ate as ravenously as he always did, but Hermione and Harry hardly touched their food, both of them staring off into space in thought. Days mostly passed in this fashion. The three of them talked about the news in the Daily Prophet if it was relevant, but mostly tried to find something brighter and more optimistic to chat about, though they were usually very short-lived conversations.

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all headed back upstairs. Hermione grabbed her favorite book, 'Hogwarts, A History', to read while the other two played a game of Wizard's Chess. For the most part, the three of them seemed to have come to a silent agreement to have a day where they didn't mention Horcruxes or Death Eaters.

Hermione leaned forward to assess the damage on either side of the board when Harry glanced at the page she happened to be reading. Suddenly, he stood upright, throwing off severally protesting chess pieces and pulling Hermione's book closer to himself. She let out a slightly surprised noise, but let her book go willingly.

"That's her!" he exclaimed, jabbing his finger at a picture on the page, the occupant of which looked very affronted. "The woman from my dream!"

"That's Rowena Ravenclaw," said Hermione, looking at the picture of the frustrated Ravenclaw. She scanned the image, looking for some sort of clue. "Nothing else about her stood out to you?"

"I just remember her and her crown," Harry replied, his brows knitting together in thought, as he tried to recall. "That was the clearest part of the dream."

"Well, it's not likely that You-Know-Who knew Ravenclaw when she was still alive, right?" asked Ron, craning above them both as they examined the page. Suddenly, Hermione also jumped to her feet, and ran from the room just to return from her room with another thick volume. 'Legends, Myths, and Urban Legends' was written on the spine.

"Ravenclaw's Diadem!" she exclaimed, flipping through the pages , finally setting the book on the chess board once she had located the correct text. She pointed to a picture of a circlet on the page. "Rumored to give the wearer increased wit and intelligence. Nothing much else is mentioned, other than that her daughter, Helena, had stolen it at one point…" She trailed off, the gears in her head winding. "Do you think—do you think You-Know-Who found it? Maybe he used it as a Horcrux."

Harry stared at the picture of the diadem for a long while. "I have seen this somewhere," he muttered, rubbing his scar once more.

"What? You've seen—there's no way right?" asked Ron. "You don't mean you've just seen it in dreams, don't you?"

Sudden realization dawned on Harry's face. "The Room of Requirement. When I went to hide my Potion's book last year, it was in the Room of Requirement, filled with all of those random items. It was—it was kind of off-color, but there's no doubt…it looked like that. I placed it on the head of a bust of a really ugly warlock, to mark where I hid it."

"If it's a Horcrux, then we need to get it and destroy it," said Ron. "That's going to be hard. Snape is running the place now, and the hallways are teeming with Death Eaters."

"We can use the invisibility cloak," said Harry, looking up from the book for the first time.

"All three of us can't fit under the cloak anymore," reasoned Hermione. "Besides, more than one of us going can be a liability." She looked around nervously. "I think we should talk to the Order about this."

"No way," said Harry. "They wouldn't let us go, or they would wave it off as being some wild imagining from my dreams. Mrs. Weasley would have a seizure." Hermione twisted her hands.

"Well, we should at least talk to one of them about it," she whispered, suddenly looking around their surroundings. "So that if something happens or something goes wrong—"

"Nothing's going to go wrong," interjected Harry.

"—someone can be there to react or send help. Harry, we have to realize that we can't do this all on our own…" The three looked around, both Harry and Ron looking doubtful. "For Merlin's sake, we should at least tell Kingsley about it. He's the closest we're going to get to an Order leader now that Dumbledore—" Hermione trailed off. After a few seconds, she stood up straight. "If…if you don't tell at least him, then—then I will tell him myself!"

With an exasperated sigh, Harry threw up his hands. "Alright, fine, but we're only telling Kingsley. No one other than him, though. I don't want them trying to send a raid's worth of wizards, or shouldering it off as wild daydreams…I've had enough of that in the past."

Resolved, though somewhat begrudgingly, they trudged out of the room.

The trio spent most of the day trying to get a moment alone with Kingsley to discuss their plan. However, he always seemed to be engaged in conversation with someone else and not really paying attention to them whatsoever. It was just after dinner that the three were able to corner him in a corridor as he was preparing to leave.

"We need a word with you," Harry told him, giving him a meaningful look as Tonks passed them, glancing their way curiously. Kingsley looked around and then nodded at them, following them into Ron's apartment, which was just around the corner.

Hermione locked the door behind them, more for show than really for any use, since all of the Wizards in the building most likely knew how to easily unlock Muggle locks. She glanced over her shoulder at them and then, with a wand wave, warded the room from eavesdroppers.

"I'm assuming this is about You-Know-Who," Kingsley said, matter-of-factly, giving the three a hard look. "You're trying not to involve many people."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks before Harry began.

"We want to go into Hogwarts," he said, keeping a firm look at Kingsley. "We think that there is something in there that can help us against Voldemort; something Dumbledore would have wanted us to do."

"Then we'll send in a squad of aurors."

Hermione shook her head. "That could be the most dangerous thing we could do. Not only could we endanger Order members, but also students. There are Death Eaters all over the place. If even one auror was spotted or an altercation broke out, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers wouldn't hesitate to start killing students…"

Kingsley's lips formed a frown. "So what are you trying to propose?"

The three exchanged glances once more.

"Send one of us," Harry said, in a tone of utmost seriousness. "We know the school the best, since we were just there last year," Harry purposely left out mention of the Marauders Map, "and we have an invisibility cloak…but it can only fit one of us under it now."

"This is a foolish plan," said Kingsley, standing up.

"It is the best plan," replied Hermione, also standing up. "One person can move, unseen, through the school in the middle of the night under the cloak. We also know how to navigate the school and its secret passages, since we were such wanton rule breakers in our youth. This way there is the least chance for casualties of innocents and Order members."

She stared at Kingsley, sitting back down and folding her hands in front of her. After a moment, he also returned to his seat, a much more solemn expression on his face.

"Which one of you will be going, if we do this?"

"It's obvious it would be me," Harry said suddenly. Kingsley immediately shook his head.

"I can't allow that, Harry, and you know that. If something did go wrong, and something happened to you, we would be losing a lot more than you think. We need you here."

Harry sneered and clicked his tongue in anger.

"So, me, then?" Ron questioned, rubbing his neck.

"That also wouldn't be a good idea," said Hermione. Ron looked taken aback. "Ron, you are very tall. Your feet would probably show from under the cloak. Besides," she added, "you have a horrible temper…I think if you did see Professor Snape, you wouldn't be able to control yourself…"

All three men turn their gazes onto the only female in the room. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"So I guess that leaves me…" She cleared her throat and nodded. "Well, that really is the most logical I suppose. I'm the smallest, so I can walk and move about more quietly than both of you. Also, I can keep my emotions under control, even when faced with the worst of them. Don't worry; I think I'll be able to refrain from walloping someone I dislike for this. And if I'm faced with something unexpected, I think I could probably come up with a rational solution." She nodded, resolute. "Yes, I really think I'm the best for this."

After a pause, another question was put forth by Ron. "So when will you go, then?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable again. "Well, as soon as possible, really. During the time I am gone, Harry, you will have to stay awake and try and not think about what I am doing…in case, somehow, You-Know-Who gets an idea."

"Staying awake shouldn't be a problem," replied Harry, though he seemed somewhat sulky. "Are you sure, Hermione?"

"Yes. Yes, I think I am sure. I should be in and out relatively quickly. And I can use the passage in Hogsmeade to get in, so I'm a little closer than coming in through the front door. Plus, I can Apparate into Hogsmeade. It should all be rather simple." She ran a hand through her hair. "Tomorrow evening should be adequate…I'll sneak out with the cloak sometime after excusing myself from supper, and Apparate about block away from here."

Kingsley nodded, though he looked somewhat disturbed by the overall plan. Harry tried to give Hermione a reassuring smile and Ron put his hand on her shoulder. No matter what they did, Hermione couldn't quite shake the foreboding feeling in the put of her stomach.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Sorry this took me a while, guys. Started back in class this week, so been running around getting my stuff together for this semester. Also, it's quite a long chapter, isn't it? They won't always be this length, but they will be fairly long. I wanted to use this chapter to kind of set the foundation for _my_ world after HBP. The ball will get rolling a little bit more next chapter. Thanks everyone for your wonderful reviews! I hope you all like it and stick with me. :)_


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